


Headed For A Fall

by Elise_Madrid



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Madrid/pseuds/Elise_Madrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tragedy, Dick questions his place in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headed For A Fall

“Bruce, I think—”

Bruce bent down and covered Dick’s mouth with his own. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking. Not while he was balls-deep inside his lover, seconds away from completion. Not when he could feel Dick’s legs wrapped around his shoulders, his hands clasped tightly around Bruce’s biceps while he moaned a continuous litany of pleasure. Not when it had been too long since Dick had been in his bed, in his arms.

He probed the recesses of Dick’s mouth with his tongue, muffling whatever it was Dick was trying to say. When he felt Dick’s grasp falter, the strong hands coming to rest on his chest as if to push him away, he grabbed hold of them and held them down against the bed above Dick’s head and continued the plundering of his lover’s body.

Bruce’s thrusts were becoming shorter and faster, his world narrowing down to the wondrous feeling between his legs. He savored the feeling of the hot, tight orifice clenching around his cock, made even more sweet with the knowledge of who it was who was so generously opening himself to him. This was Dick, the most beautiful person he knew, who had given everything to Bruce without asking for anything in return. Except love. And there was no way he could not have loved this man.

He was gasping for air now, his mouth no longer pressed against Dick’s but merely touching as they shared breaths. The glazed look in his lover’s eyes told Bruce that Dick was as lost as he was. Whatever it was Dick had wanted to say was forgotten as, eyes crunched tightly shut, he threw his head back and cried out. Bruce felt the stream of warm emissions against his belly, wet and slick. With a strangled cry of his own, he pushed into the welcoming body once more and came to a shuddering release.

“Bruce?”

“Yeah?” Bruce’s forehead rested against Dick’s chest and his response was little more than an expulsion of air as he worked at getting his breath back.

Dick untangled his legs from around Bruce’s shoulders and hissed as Bruce’s organ slipped from his body. “We need to get up.”

Bruce rolled over and collapsed on the bed. His eyes were closed. “Why?”

He felt Dick’s elbow dig into one of his ribs. “Look out the window.”

Bruce did. High above the tree limbs that danced in the cold October air, the bat signal shone against the night sky.

 

~~~~~

 

Nightwing watched the steady flow of traffic in and out of the Gotham police station. Batman had entered the building almost thirty minutes earlier.

They’d been lucky. All Gordon had wanted was to pass on new information regarding one of the cases they were working on. There had been no need for Nightwing’s presence. He squirmed into a different position. Lucky thing, too. His suit would have hid the fact that he hadn’t had time for a shower; but while chasing down some crook would have been bad enough, sitting through one of Gordon’s long-winded meetings would have been a test of his endurance.

Not that Gordon would have been expecting him. It would be Robin the Commissioner would have asked about. But Tim was now off with the Teen Titans. It was the only reason Nightwing now sat waiting in the Batmobile. The only reason he had been at the mansion. Well, it was supposed to have been the only reason.

He let his head fall back against the seat, never letting his focus on the front door of the building waver. He’d been distracted once tonight. He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Yet he couldn’t help letting his mind spiral back to that awful night that had changed everything, the last time he and Bruce had patrolled together. The last time they had been _together,_ before their lives had been turned upside down.

_And whose fault is that?_

He frowned, knowing how divided his thoughts were on the subject. On one hand, he knew that what had happened had nothing to do with what was between him and Bruce, that his guilt was what was tearing them apart. But on the other hand, who or what was Dick Grayson to Bruce if Nightwing could no longer be there for Batman?

He’d played that night over in his mind so many times; a simple patrol, a deceptively quiet night. Their gazes locked and silently they decided that they were going home; time for each other. They flew through the skies of Gotham, swinging from building to building as they made their way back to the Batmobile.

Then out of nowhere, a rooftop disturbance. Two people, a man and woman, arguing, and the man had a gun in his hand. But surely nothing that couldn’t be resolved quickly.

With only a look, Batman signaled to him that he would take out the man. He swung down, knocking the gun from the man’s hand then turning to confront the man himself.

Dick blinked furiously, in an attempt to fight back tears. He should have seen it coming, known what could happen as the woman backed away from her attacker, still afraid even through there was no longer anything to fear. But he hadn’t, and then she was falling, her scream rebounding off the tightly packed buildings.

No matter how fast he had moved it hadn’t been fast enough. He’d thrown a swing line down and missed the woman by inches. By the time he’d reached the roof’s edge she was gone, her crumbled body barely visible in the depths below.

He remembered turning. Batman had wrestled the man down and had him securely tied. They stared at one another, the only sound the wail of the advancing police car. Finally, Batman pulled his gaze away and hauled the man to his feet.

“Let’s get him down there,” he gruffly ordered.

Dick had gone through the motions, but once back at the Batcave he had left without a word. He hadn’t seen Bruce again since.

The door of the vehicle opening jarred him from his reverie. He grimaced, knowing he had done it again. He hadn’t even seen Batman’s approach.

Batman slid in and handed over a file. “There’s not much, but it’s all Gordon has on the rash of robberies going on the East side. We can go through it, maybe see something no one else has.”

Dick only nodded as he placed the file on the dash.

“Are you all right?” Batman asked as he grabbed Dick’s arm.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” Dick pulled his arm away, not daring to look Bruce in the face. His own face betrayed too much to risk it.

Bruce started up the engine and pulled out onto the street. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Bruce chuckled, though there was nothing of humor in it. “And they say I’m emotionally repressed. Look, Dick, I know...well, I know how affected you were by what happened.” He shook his head. “How could I not be? I hadn’t seen you in three weeks until you showed up at the Manor earlier.”

“I...I had some things to work out.” Dick watched the passing lights as they made their way through the city. It was much easier than facing his lover.

“It doesn’t seem as if you have worked them out. I thought after tonight—”

“Tonight was a mistake. With Tim leaving, I thought you might need the help. But that was all that was supposed to happen. Not...what happened.”

“So we’re back to that? Almost strangers except when Batman might need a back-up?”

“I didn’t say that.”

‘Then what _are_ you saying?”

Hell if he knew. So how was he going to be able to explain it to Bruce if he couldn’t even explain it to himself? All he knew was that things were moving too fast. He wasn’t ready for this, for pretending that everything was fine and that they could go on as if nothing had ever happened. As if that woman had never died.

“That...that I need more time.”

He saw Bruce’s gloved hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“How much time? A week, a month...a year?”

Dick brought a hand up to run through his hair. “No, I...I don’t know.”

“All right, listen. If you need more time then, fine, I’ll give you more time. But not the way you’ve been doing it. We don’t have to...be together, not like tonight. But until you make a decision, I’d like you to at least come around. Don’t shut me out of your life unless you’re going to do it for good.”

“Bruce—”

“I’m not finished. No matter what you do, I want tonight. I want to sleep with you tonight,” he hurried past Dick’s interruption. “No sex, just sleep. I think you owe me that much, at least.”

Dick thought he probably owed Bruce a hell of a lot more than that. He knew he was being an ass about the whole thing; none of what had happened was Bruce’s fault, though he was paying the biggest price for it. And after he’d smothered his surprise, his reception from Bruce had been warm and welcoming but there had been a decided chill from Tim.

“Fine, forget I asked,” Bruce growled when Dick didn’t respond.

“Bruce,” Dick hesitantly touched the other man’s arm, very aware of how he was mirroring Bruce’s earlier action and how Bruce could just as easily mirror his. “No matter what, I’ll always want to be with you. I’d...I’d like very much to spend the night with you.”

Bruce glanced at him and all his doubt could be read in his eyes. Yet he still nodded and gave Dick a small smile. Then he turned his attention back to the road and the rest of the drive home was made in silence.

~~~~~

_He was sitting on the swing, high above the rest of the world here at the top of the big top. Back and forth, back and forth, each time he went a little higher, a little further. It felt good to be back; he’d missed the sights and sounds of the circus._

_He slipped down and positioned himself as he hung from his knees. He was upside down, yet he could still see his parents on the far platform, waiting. Waiting for him to catch them._

_What was he doing up here? He was too young. His dad had already told him that he didn’t have the strength to catch a full grown man, so why was he giving him the responsibility now? He looked at his hands, surprised to see them encased in gloves, gloves of blue and black. And they were large, like a man’s hands._

_He saw both his parents grab the trapeze and together they swung out. Back and forth, back and forth, getting closer each time until finally they both let go and leapt toward him._

_No, no one caught two people at the same time. How could they expect a boy his age to do so? He felt the touch of their hands for only a second and then they were falling. Down, down, into the dark street below._

“No!” Dick bolted straight up. He gulped in air as he tried to calm his racing heart.

“Dick, what is it?” Bruce had sat up and wrapped one arm around Dick’s trembling shoulders.

“Nothing,” he choked. “Nothing, just a dream.”

“That must have been some dream.” Bruce pushed Dick’s hair up from his forehead. “You’re perspiring.”

Pulling his knees up, Dick rested his elbows on them and cradled his head in his hands. “I’ll be all right in a moment. It was just...so real.”

“They usually are. Can you tell me about it?”

He shuddered and drew the sheet up around his naked body. “It was about my parents, about when they died.”

“I’m not surprised, considering what—”

“I know why, Bruce. I’m not stupid.” He moved to pull out of Bruce’s embrace. “This was a mistake. I should go home.”

He was almost out of the bed when he felt his wrist snatched in a steel-like vise. “Wait, just wait. Can’t we just talk about it?”

Dick hesitated for a moment but then finally relented. He sat back down on the bed, thankful, yet somehow still resenting the arm that resettled on his shoulders.

“Okay, talk.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about.”

“Isn’t there? You say you know where the dream came from, but do you really think the two are the same?”

“No. I don’t know...maybe. Maybe they’re the same to me because both times I’m taking on more than I can handle.”

“Dick, you were ten when your parents died. Do you honestly believe you could have done anymore than you did?”

“But I was full grown in the dream. I’m there on the swing and they’re counting on me to catch them. But I don’t, I let them fall.”

“You _let_ them fall?” Bruce asked, clearly skeptical.

Dick stared into the shadowed room. “They slipped from my hands. We were up on the trapeze and I was supposed to catch them but I didn’t. I know it’s stupid; no one can catch two people at once. You’d dislocate your arms at the very least. But I feel like I should have been able to save them, somehow.”

Bruce tugged him closer while drawing his head around at the same time. “Hey,” he looked into Dick’s eyes. “It’s not stupid. It’s who you are and I think it says a lot about just how special a person you are that you feel that way.” He smiled. “It’s one of the things that make you so lovable.”

“I wish I could let it go but I can’t. I don’t know if I ever will.”

Bruce stared at him, as if trying to see....something. Finally he nodded and pulled Dick back down onto the bed, never loosening his embrace.

“Try to go back to sleep.”

Dick took a ragged breath and let himself relax. If only for tonight, he would allow himself to let go. Bruce was his bulwark—if only for tonight.

~~~~~

The sun hadn’t even come up when Dick slid out from Bruce’s embrace. He dressed as quietly as he could, carrying his shoes with him instead of putting them on in an attempt at subterfuge. It did no good. As he slowly closed the door behind him, he happened to glance over at the bed. Bruce was staring at him, his expression tight. Without a word, he rolled over and pulled the blankets tightly about himself as if to create a barrier between them.

_That’s it, make me feel even worse._

Dick closed the door, and then almost flew down the staircase. He stopped only long enough to put on his shoes and jacket then slipped out the front door, its lock sliding into place with a resounding click.

His motorcycle was where he’d left it, parked beneath an overhang of branches from one of the massive trees that lined the area next to the garage. He climbed on, walking it up the path to the front gate, more out of habit than necessity. Because of him, he doubted anyone was in fact asleep in the manor behind him. Nevertheless, he waited until the entrance gates had silently opened before donning his helmet and starting up the bike.

He shot out into the street, the gates swinging closed with an implacable finality.

What with the traffic, even at this hour of the morning it took him over an hour to get home. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and shaved while waiting for eight o’clock to roll around. As soon as he could, he called in and managed to finagle two weeks leave time. He threw in the last items into his duffel bag, hesitating over including his costume but then stuffing it in at the last minute. All told, he’d managed to be back on his bike and heading out of town in less than ninety minutes.

He decided to head north, perhaps find some little, out of the way place where he could think and maybe get his head screwed on straight. He snorted. Given his track record, two weeks wasn’t anywhere near enough time.

Still, he had little choice. He had to deal with this, one way or the other. Could he continue as Nightwing? And could he continue as Bruce’s lover? Strange, how the two rolls had become inexorably linked, even if only in his own mind.

The city dropped away behind him, and soon he was traveling through the greener backdrop of upstate New York. He had no specific location in mind; he figured he’d go wherever the road took him and eventually he’d find something. He was halfway to Albany before he decided to turn off the main highway onto an exit leading west. He had followed the road as it twisted through the now forested area for about a half hour when a small town appeared out of nowhere.

As he slowly rode through the town’s main street, he realized that it was perfect for his needs. No one would think to look for him here; he wasn’t even sure where ‘here’ was. When he saw the sign advertising a bed and breakfast he pulled onto the side road and stopped.

Up ahead, a white, three-story clapboard house perched atop a gently sloping hill. Though he couldn’t see it, Dick could hear a stream running nearby, probably behind the house where trees grew in a line that stretched off into the distance. There didn’t seem to be a soul around. He couldn’t have asked for anything better. His decision made, he restarted his bike and rode up the graveled driveway.

He reached the front of the house just as the front door opened and a young girl walked out. Pretty, in a small-town sort of way, not more than fifteen, with long brown hair and a ready smile. She waited until he’d cut the engine before speaking.

“You looking for a room?”

“Do you have one available?” he asked as he removed his helmet and dismounted the bike.

She laughed and took the steps down. “You could say that. Mostly the rooms get filled during the weekend. My mom’s in town right now, but I can sign you in. You can park your bike over there.” She pointed off to the right. A four-car garage, all its bays empty at the moment, stood about twenty feet from the house.

He walked his bike over, taking the second bay. He unstrapped his pack but left his helmet in its place and rejoined the girl on the porch. “Are you all alone up here?” He looked around as they entered the house. It seemed a lot to leave a young girl to look after.

“Oh, no. My younger sister’s playing out back and my dad’s in the kitchen working on the sink.”

Uh, oh. “Are you having plumbing problems?”

“No, Dad’s just putting in a new faucet.” She led him to a small room on the left. Crammed with books and ledgers, it was obviously the inn’s office. She took a seat at the old and scarred wooden desk and pulled out a register. “Okay, what’s your name?”

Dick gave her his name, showing her his identification and then paid for two weeks—in cash.

“You got any idea what kind of room you’d like?”

“I don’t know, something quiet, I guess.”

“How about one on the top floor? There’s one faces the back of the house, you’ll have a view of the stream from up there.”

He smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

~~~~~

The book hit the wall with a resounding thump and Bruce let slip a smile, probably the first one that had crossed his lips in the last week. Damn Dick, anyway.

He sighed, then got up from his chair and went to retrieve the book. All he needed was for Alfred to ask what the problem was.

Before returning to his seat, he added a couple of logs to the fire, stirring up the glowing embers until the wood had caught. He stared at the blaze for awhile, trying not to think too much about how much better it would be if Dick were here.

He scowled and returned to the recliner where he had been attempting to make his way once again through _A Tale of Two Cities._ It had always been his favorite of Dickens’ work but for some reason he found himself having to reread passages two or three times, his mind unable to focus on the words. Considering his inability to concentrate, he didn’t know if it was lucky or not that the last few nights of patrol had been oddly quiet. He could have used a good altercation.

_Better some two-bit crook than your missing lover, right?_

But was Dick still his lover? Bruce picked up the glass sitting on the table next to him and finished off his wine while he pondered the question. He hadn’t heard from Dick in almost a week, no matter that he’d promised not to do exactly what he’d done—take off without a word to who knew where. As Batman, he’d swung by Dick’s apartment. Dick wasn’t home and it was obvious he hadn’t been home for days.

So what happened if Dick decided he was done with being Nightwing, done with Bruce? Bruce couldn’t very well lock him up in the attic, as attractive as that option sounded. Besides, his attempts to control Dick’s life are what had caused their initial parting; trying it again could only make matters worse.

From the beginning of their partnership, they had worked toward a common goal, but from completely different avenues. While Bruce had used his anger to drive himself on, focusing it on his fight against crime, Dick had rejected his totally. On the surface, that certainly sounded more emotionally healthy, but it left Dick open to crises of conscience that Bruce had never had to deal with. He didn’t know what words to say that would make things right for Dick again.

What he did know was that he wasn’t letting go of Dick without a fight. They had both worked too hard, gone through too much, to just throw it all away now. And whatever Dick thought at the moment, Bruce could not imagine the young man doing anything but what he was doing; Dick was a crime-fighter, whether as Nightwing or as Detective Richard Grayson. All he would end up doing is destroying himself.

“Is there anything I can get for you, Master Bruce?”

Bruce looked up, startled by the man’s sudden appearance. “I, uh, no thank you, Alfred.”

Alfred noted the empty glass. “More wine, perhaps?”

Bruce ruefully shook his head. “I think I’ve had plenty. It’s been quiet but you never know when something might come up.”

“That is most certainly true, and with Master Tim out of town...” The butler’s next words were studied. “Perhaps Master Richard could be enticed to accompany you.”

_I guess nothing slips by you, my friend._

“Maybe. But Dick has his own city to worry about. I can’t be depending on him to always be there for me.”

“I find that difficult to believe. I can’t recall a time since he was a very young boy that his greatest desire has not been to be at your side.”

“People change, Alfred.”

“Not Master Richard, sir. The sun would rise in the west before that could happen.”

A bitter smile passed over Bruce’s face. He would give anything to believe that. “We’ll see. In any event, I don’t have to make that call just yet.”

“Very well, sir. Will there be anything else?”

“No, Alfred, I’m fine. You go on to bed. I’m going to stay up for awhile, try to make some headway on this book.”

“Very good, sir. Well, goodnight, Master Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.”

Bruce watched as the man backed out of the study, closing the doors behind him. He opened the book and began reading. After a moment, he swore to himself and began reading the page again.

~~~~~

The stream that meandered behind the house was an ideal place to just sit and think and Dick had made good use of it. If he got restless, as he invariably did, he’d walk along its banks, following the tree line until it disappeared into the forest proper. Then he’d retrace his steps, the leaves, in a dying blaze of red and gold, cushioning his path.

After such a walk he’d returned to the back of the house to continue his reflections, pulling one of the garden chairs closer to the stream in order to be away from any visitors the inviting setting might draw. He’d come here to be alone.

He glanced over at the swing set off to the side of the house and smiled. It had taken a great deal to stick to that resolve. While Clara, the young girl who had checked him in, had made certain advances, those most teenage girls made toward young men just out of principle, she’d soon forgotten all about him when a boy more her own age had shown up with his parents. It was her younger sister, Mandy, who had proved to be the bigger problem. She’d followed him along everywhere, defying not only his own gentle attempts, but the more strident ones of her parents, to discourage her.

But for now she seemed content to play on her own, pushing her swing precariously high and reveling in it.

A gust of wind sent the leaves about him flying. He shivered and zipped up his jacket then shoved his hands into his pockets. There was a chill in the air and Dick felt a frisson of foreboding. _Like someone walked over my grave._

He mentally shook himself. He was here to try to resolve his problem, not create fanciful new ones. He tried to order his thoughts but found his attention returning to the little girl.

The swing creaked under her weight, its rusty hinges speaking of many years use. Back and forth, higher and higher, as if she would fly if only gravity would let her. She tucked her legs under her on the back beat, and then straightened them to push forward. Back and forth, higher and higher.

_“That’s right, Dick, you build up using the momentum of the swing.”_

_He was sitting on the bar, getting closer to his father with each swing. When he felt he was ready, he dropped down to hang by his knees. But he wasn’t in the Big Top anymore. All around him, the circus tent had been replaced by buildings. They were shrouded in the darkness of night and the only sound was the wail of a siren._

_He flew forward and saw the sullen figure standing on the pedestal board. The man, for Dick was sure it was a man, watched him, as if unsure if he could trust Dick to be there. But before he could make a decision, the platform gave way and the man had no option but to swing out and hope to be caught._

_Dick flew toward the figure, his arms outstretched. The man swung out and released the bar, his body propelled toward Dick. But their timing was off and Dick found himself moving away, the figure plummeting toward the ground, the man’s black cape fluttering like the wings of a bat._

He jerked upright, almost unseating himself in the process. His heart was pounding and he felt an unaccountable unease. Something was wrong. He knew it; he didn’t know how he knew it, but he couldn’t shake the conviction that something terrible was going to happen. Tonight.

Dick glanced over at the swing set. Mandy was gone. Looking up into the sky, he realized that it was getting late. The sun was already starting its path downward; full night was only a couple of hours away. He didn’t have much time.

He got up and hurried up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time. Making sure the door was closed behind him, he grabbed his duffel from the corner and removed his cell phone from the side pocket. All he could think of was that he needed to contact Bruce.

“Come on, answer your phone.” He ran his hand through his hair; what would he do if Bruce wasn’t there?

“Wayne Manor.”

“Alfred, it’s Dick.”

“Hello, Master Dick. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours, too, Alfred, but is Bruce there?”

“I’m afraid not. He left over an hour ago on patrol.”

“Was he by himself?”

“I’m afraid so. Master Tim hasn’t returned yet.”

“Can you get in touch with him?”

“I shall certainly attempt to do so. If you would hold on, I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

Dick paced the small room, telling himself over and over that he was being ridiculous. Bruce would probably think he’d lost it completely when he found out that Dick was reacting this way over a _feeling._ But he didn’t care. All he knew was that if anything happened to Bruce he’d never forgive himself for not being there for him.

“He’s not responding to my call.” Alfred hesitated. “It could just be a matter of him being away from the Batmobile.”

Dick swore softly to himself. “Listen, Alfred, I’m on my way back to Gotham. If you should hear from Bruce, have him call me right away, before he does anything else, all right?”

“Certainly. But is there a problem I should be aware of?”

“No, no problem. Well, not that I’m aware of. It’s just...I have this feeling, that’s all.”

“I would not be so quick to disavow a feeling, Master Dick. Especially when it is trying to tell you something.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. He wished he knew what it was trying to say, if anything at all. “Don’t forget, Alfred. The moment you hear from him.”

Dick didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call. He hurriedly undressed, then donned his costume underneath his clothes and was out the door. He had a long ride ahead of him.

~~~~~

He was getting desperate. It had seemed an eternity getting back; the night had turned bitter cold and his bike had been buffeted by the winds that refused to let up. When he had finally reached Gotham, Dick had hidden his bike near the harbor with his street clothes stuffed into his bag. He’d been looking for Batman ever since.

Block by block, he swung from building to building, keeping a vigilant eye on every movement, for anything out of place. He glanced at a nearby clock tower; quarter after eleven. For some inexplicable reason, his heartbeat kicked into high gear. He was running out of time.

He heard them before he saw them. Several men were on the roof of an old abandoned building, one of the turn-of-the-century monstrosities that still resided in the heart of Gotham. Most of the men were down; obviously, there had been a fight. But as he got closer he realized that four of the men were still on their feet and were trying to reach the figure hanging from the crouching gargoyle at one of the building’s corners.

_Bruce._

Nightwing swooped down feet first, taking out two of the men before they knew what hit them. The third almost managed to connect with the pipe he’d had in his hand but a plain, old-fashion upper cut brought him down. That left one more. He turned and was confronted by one of the biggest men he’d ever seen.

_Oh, well. The bigger they are._

He ejected his Eskrima sticks and advanced toward the man. Three minutes later he was racing over to where Batman was still hanging onto the gargoyle. One hand had slipped from the damp surface and he was desperately trying to regain his hold. Nightwing lay down near the edge of the roof and reached out.

“Grab my hand!”

Batman swung over, letting go of the gargoyle at the same time his hand connected with Nightwing’s. The other he used to grab the edge of the building. Hooking his own arm under Batman’s, Nightwing tugged the bigger man up.

 

“I’ve got you.” He clasped tighter as he pulled Batman over the ledge and onto the roof. “I’ve got you.”

The strain of Batman’s ordeal could still be heard in every labored breath, yet he still found the strength to respond, “Yes, you do,” he whispered huskily, “and you always will.”

~~~~~

They managed to act as if this had been just another night on patrol as they stood and began tying up the men scattered around them; in many ways it was.

Batman had called in to the nearest station so it was only a few minutes wait for the police to arrive and take the men into custody.

“Are you going home now?” Nightwing asked.

“Yes.” Batman watched the street below as the patrol cars pulled away. “I doubt there will be anything else going on. Their little setup didn’t work.”

“Whose little setup?”

“I don’t know who, exactly. Whoever had kept the streets quiet for the last week or so.” He turned to look at Nightwing. “They were trying to catch me off guard. They succeeded.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“My mind was somewhere else.”

“Then it’s my fault?” Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.

“No, it wasn’t your fault. Whatever I do, however I react to something, it’s my own doing. And whatever you may think, I don’t expect you to live your life for me.” Bruce seemed to weigh his next words. “I was surprised to see you here.”

“Not anymore than I was to be here.”

“What happened?”

“I, uh, had a feeling.”

“You had a feeling.” Batman deadpanned.

“Yeah, a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“I don’t know, a feeling, like something bad was going to happen.”

“And you came all this way because of this ‘feeling’?”

Nightwing caught the glint of humor and grinned. “Hey, I’m Rom and it’s Halloween, what do you expect?”

“Is it?” Batman turned then and walked to the edge of the roof. “I wonder if there are any treats at home.”

Nightwing walked up to his side. “I’d like to find out.”

Batman nodded, and then without another word glided down to the street. From where he stood, Nightwing saw his mentor turn and look at him once more before getting into the Batmobile and driving away. Turning his back on the rooftop battlefield, Nightwing went to retrieve his bike, once again Dick Grayson as he rode through the streets of Gotham.

When he opened the front door of the mansion, Bruce was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

~~~~~

Bruce lay on his side, propped up on one elbow as he gazed down at Dick. Dick was on his back, sated and half-drowsing. They’d come upstairs, taking time only to shower before falling into bed together. Their lovemaking had been an odd combination of frantic and sweet, fast yet gentle. It was hard to imagine that he had ever thought to give this up.

“You’re staring at me,” Dick lazily noted.

“How can you tell? You’re eyes are closed.”

“I can still feel you, all over. Inside and out.”

“Is this the same feeling that brought you back tonight?” Bruce asked.

Dick opened his eyes. “I think so. It’s odd,” he brought a hand up to lightly run over Bruce’s chest. “I thought I couldn’t stand seeing another person fall. It never occurred to me that I might be there to make sure they didn’t.”

“Does that mean you’re planning on staying?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“I’m not sure. I never have been sure with you.” Bruce turned his head until he was looking out the bedroom window. Clouds scurried across the face of the moon, draping the room in shadows. “Maybe because I fought my feelings for you for so long, now it’s as if I expect that every time you leave you won’t be coming back, ever.”

Dick shook his head. “I never imagined you having the same insecurities as I do. But it doesn’t matter. You’re stuck with me, Bruce, I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked at Dick, a smile touching his face as he drew him back into his arms.


End file.
